Neighver Again
by KemeRune
Summary: Two old human friends find themselves in a truly surreal equine adventure; one a die-hard brony, the other anything but. Will this heal a strained relationship or be the final thing that breaks it? Does star OCs. Rated just in case.
1. Chapter 1: The One With The Peach

More Like The One With The Peach

Marcus huffed and wheezed through the grueling Texas summer heat. Truly the dog days of summer, his clothes were drenched with sweat. Even as a lean young man, he was not a runner, and adding that little fact to the heat left him blurry-eyed, constantly tripping over bits of sidewalk and his own shoes.

The person he was desperately trying to follow wasn't a runner either, and yet she easily kept ahead. Marcus's current goal was to keep Taylor's garishly teal backpack within eyesight as she bobbed an embarrassingly long distance ahead from him. She was made for summer, and even with a healthy weight and a backpack loaded with miscellaneous kid's toys over him, the heat didn't seem to affect her or her stride.

Marcus brooded over this as he tried to keep up. That may have helped; an extra burst of speed got him close enough to clearly see the plethora of key chains hanging off the zipper pulls and straps. Especially the ridiculous Pinkie Pie toy she had insisted on getting while they had lunch the other day.

Now the prissy unicorn toy seemed to mock him, diamond-shaped butt-marks flashing in the light. Wait, or was that Fluttershy? As the now nameless pony started to bob away he decided he couldn't be bothered to figure it out and let himself slow to a stop, hunching over on his knees to catch dry heaving breaths.

The jingling of key chains told him just who was coming over to lean over him. "You aren't… as good… a runner…" he wheezed, looking up to squint into Taylor's face. Her response was to turn on her heel and kick nearly into his nose, giggling.

Oh for—she'd painted little clouds with lightning bolts on her shoes. He vaguely recognized it from the pony show she obsessed over.

"Can you say—"

"DON'T."

"—twenty percent cooler?" Taylor cackled at how he winced from such a blatant My Little Pony reference.

"Okay okay, sorry." She wiped a tear from her head and caught his weak glare.

"You know I don't like to tease, but you make it too easy!" She batted her eyes and faked a pout. Usually that made him roll his eyes and sigh, but today he was decidedly not amused. She cut the act, bringing up both hands in defense. "Alright, glaring duly noted. No more ponies!"

Marcus straightened up and stretched, his first verbal response of the conversation coming out as a grunt. "You know I don't like that little girl's show"

"And you know that it isn't just for little girls, as I keep telling you, but that hasn't changed anything." Taylor sort of meandered around next to him as they enjoyed their impromptu break from tearing across the pavement in boiling weather.

"Maybe once grown men stop being fans or 'bronies' or what you're calling it now it'll stop being creepy."

"Yeah, whatever." She was too distracted by an alluring shady spot nearby to go into a full-fledged debate with him. (for the umpteenth time, no less)

Just across the deserted street; so close!

"Maybe if you were half as accepting as you acted in Social Studies—" She hopped off the curb and sprinted across the road.

Right in front of a mini van.

"OI!" Marcus suddenly found new energy as he tackled her, their combined momentum just barely clearing the wheels; he felt the end of his shoe being run over.

The world seemed silent as they both shakily got up on their knees. The van was long gone. They looked at each other, and then both spoke as if one.

"Ponies nearly got you hit by a van."

"What's that?"

Okay, maybe not as one. Taylor sprang to her feet and ran the rest of the way to a clump of trees, crouching at the roots.

"Are we going to completely ignore Pinkie Sparkle almost killing you?" Marcus ran after her.

"Her name is Rarity and you're stupid. Look look look!"

He decided to look over her lack of maturity—this time—and crouched next to her.

The only word that came to mind was… "peculiar". The roots in front of them formed a nearly perfect round hole in the ground, framing a manhole-sized entryway. Tiny flowers grew around the edge, and pale white mushrooms grew just within, but past that the inside was perfectly smooth. He leaned to let the light in, but couldn't see the end of it.

"I wonder what caused this?" He looked up at the branches as if there would be answers somewhere above his head. "Maybe there was a pipe left here and the roots just sort of grew around—" He looked down and saw Taylors left leg disappearing down the hole.

"Taylor?" For a brief moment images of her being violently pulled in while he wasn't looking came to him as he leaned in.

A bit of shuffling, and then just her breathing.

"Taylor?..."

"I fit in here!" She sounded uncannily like the time she'd discovered her favorite soda came in more than one flavor; that is, ridiculously happy that she'd managed to cram herself head-first down a hole in the ground.

He sighed and shook his head.

"Yes, you do. Good job. Need me to pull you out?"

"No, I can see a light! Come on, let's go!"

"What? No, this has Alice in Wonderland written all over it. Or My Neighbor Totoro, except Totoro eats you at the end. Come on out."

"Those are just your animes."

"Alice in Wonderland is not—no, I'm not doing this with you. Come on, let's go home."

"I'm going now!" He heard shuffling again; she was moving down the tunnel now. "You can stay here if you want, but I'm going 'cause adventure."

"Taylor, no, come back!"

Silence.

Marcus hemmed and hawed for a good five minutes, considering the choice in from of him, both physically and figuratively. Then, absent-mindedly placing a hand next to him, he felt the fabric of her backpack. She'd left it behind. Well, she'd probably want it, considering she wasn't dead right now.

"Idiot…" He resignedly put on the backpack and shouted down the tunnel as he crawled in. "Wait up!" It echoed ahead of him as he began an army-style crawl.

He now saw the light at the end, a tiny yellow pinprick. Not that it helped him much; he kept hitting his head against the top of the tunnel. As he continued on, it somehow became harder to move in such a cramped space, as if his limbs couldn't do quite what he wanted. Oncoming claustrophobia and too many goose eggs made him claw to the light.

Finally free (and face first in a bush) Marcus breathed a sigh of relief and made to stand up. It didn't quite work, however, and he fell hard on his front hooves.

Wait.


	2. Chapter 2: What's After Step One Again?

What's After Step One Again?

Marcus froze in shock. Then, slowly, haltingly, he looked down at the ground.

What he saw were, just past his bare chest, two bright white legs. And at the end of that?

Hooves.

What happened next, in that little area surrounded by various shrubbery, was a flailing tangle of legs and wings—_wings?—_and Taylor's backpack as the poor boy, now a pegasus, tried to grasp what exactly had happened. Finally, unable to control anything whatsoever, he fell into a limp noodly mess on the ground as he acted on his special three-step plan just for occasions when he thought his head would explode from the stress of his… new predicament.

Step one: breathe. Okay. His chest heaved in and out instead of up and down, which was strange, but he had breathing down.

Step two: distract from whatever is causing the panic. Well he was a pony, so that wasn't going to exactly… What was that laughing?

Marcus leaned over as far as he could towards the noise, craning his neck and pushing his now huge horse-ish nose through the leaves. When that failed to give him a clear view he tried to step forward, which in retrospect became a stupid decision when it landed him face-first on the ground.

At least he could see the source of the noise now; a pale green unicorn with a lightbulb mark on her flank was shuffling around on the ground, mixing light brown dirt with her bright pink mane. It looked a lot like she couldn't figure out how her legs worked; a pony version of QWOP. While she found it hilarious, there was a crowd of concerned crayon colored ponies gathering. Eventually one would approach the squirming laughing mess and try to help her up, only to be acknowledged and greeted—loudly—and run back to the herd in a panic.

Marcus had a sinking suspicion he knew the moderately mental mare. Shakily getting to his feet—hooves—he QWOP'd forward and carefully watched the other ponies as they meandered around. After about five minutes of carefully studying them, he felt confident enough to take a few steps forward.

After nearly falling on his face, he became far less confident. Time was of the essence, though; the unicorn had now figured out her back legs, but not the front ones. The resulting chaos was her dragging around on her chin and, in a fit of impishness, chasing anyone who got too close and going "rar". Something had to be done.

Left foot, right—no that wasn't going to work—one, two, three, _whoops_ FOURonetwo three, four, okay he had walking down. Shakily, but he could move. _Wait!_ His wings were dragging on the ground. He stopped and looked at them, testing all the muscles and willing them to do what he wanted while panic ensued about ten feet in from of him. Suddenly he figured out how closing worked when both wings came to his body with a loud snap that made everyone but the laughing pony jump and look at him.

Every eye was on him now as he slowly and jerkily walked toward the unicorn, now flopped on her stomach, still laughing. Somehow, they seemed more off-put by his presence than hers. Marcus tried his best not to care; at least he had a handle on acting somewhat like a normal pastel-colored pony. At the very least he was doing better than…

"Taylor!" Marcus hissed through his teeth. The pony looked up at him; the look on her face confirmed his suspicions.

"Hey!" Taylor wiggled onto her front legs. They stood straight under her as she tried to stand completely upright. A few minutes of fruitless struggling later… "A little help?"

He sighed, carefully bent down, hooked a foreleg under her middle, and hoisted her up. She shook each leg and, stumbling every other step, cleared the crowd at a surprising speed. Soon the two of them were leaving the area at an unsteady clip.

"Well that was an immeasurable success. We avoided, barely, being the pastel pony equivalent of committed." Marcus turned in time to catch Taylor going cross-eyed, straining to look at her forehead. "What are you…"

"Horn!" Taylor grinned wide, and then screwed her face in concentration. It wasn't until her head was trembling and her cheeks were turning red that a few bright pink sparks suddenly shot from the tip like the universes' tiniest sparklers. It seemed to be enough, and she giddily tried to skip, tangling all four hooves and upending herself, hitting the dirt.

"Nice."

"Well, we can't all have wings and stuff. Hey, my backpack!"

The backpack had at some point become hooked on Marcus's wings, and he flapped to ease it off so Taylor could grab it. "Saddlebags are easier to use," she said as she flipped it around her neck, "but this should work… for…" She suddenly became very concerned about something directly behind him.

"What?" Marcus turned around on the spot, trying to see what she was seeing. "What is it, what's wrong?"

Her eyes suddenly widened in realization. "You don't-!"

"Hello!" A pink pony suddenly appeared between the two of them. He recognized her, but a name escaped him.

"My name's Pinkie Pie!" Ah, that was it. "You two must be new, because I don't know you, and I know everypony, and I mean _everypony_ in Ponyville! Welcome to Ponyville, by the way!"

"Hello." Taylor was struggling to bridle her enthusiasm; if she grinned any wider she'd grin her head in half. "It's so _wonderful_ to meet you! My name's Bright Idea, and this is, uh…Level Headed!"

Marcus mentally winced, hoping Pinkie Pie would miss the horrible puns. If anything, she was more excited, bouncing up and down like a wind up toy.

"Oh my gosh, this is so exciting! New ponies in Ponyville! We haven't had anyone new since Cranky Doodle Donkey! Hey, you know what this calls for? A _party!_ Sugarcube Corner, don't be late!" And like that she was off, bouncing down the road, singing a song about ideas and cakes.

"What just happened?"

"Just go with it." Taylor said confidently. She started walking off.

"Wait, where are you?..."

"The show's called 'Friendship is Magic'. So, let's go make some friends!"


	3. Chapter 3: Sappy Friendship and Crying

_**Author's Note:** Thank you so much, everyone, for your reviews and support! I never imagined getting this sort of response, even in a fanfiction! Thank you to those who gave me advice and pointed out errors in the story, I promise to do my best to meet up to your standards as this fanfic moves forward. Now to ponies. **-Keme**_

* * *

Sappy Friendship and Crying

It didn't surprise Marcus—no, now _Level Headed_—that most of the ponies were avoiding him and Taylor, now Bright Idea, after the scene she made in what was now obviously the center of town. (details like this were always obvious in retrospect)

What did strike him as vaguely upsetting was that everyone, including Taylor herself, was pointedly trying _not_ to look at him. It was most obvious when a young pony and an older one, probably a mother and child, saw them. The child opened their mouth to say something, but before they could the mother quickly hushed their child and made them look away.

_Sheesh,_ what was with everyone acting like he was some pariah? Had he gone bald or something? He compulsively brought a leg up over his head and pushed his mane down so he could see it. Unless having light orange hair was considered odd, that wasn't it. He decided, for now, to forget it and chalk up everyone's attitude to some pony mannerism he had possibly missed doing.

Taylor, however, seemed to be testing the equestrian social waters, ambling around and, after making eye contact with a random pony, would start to head towards them. So far, everyone was hurriedly breaking eye contact and either looking or actually moving away, which she seemed to find disheartening.

Marcus cringed as yet another pony made a conscious effort to ignore her. He thought he was the pariah… In the human world making new friends was no problem for her; even after that one day where she went around with her purse on her head, she'd easily make new friends. Like him. She hadn't made the best first impression, sure, but humans usually weren't as cold to her as this. He vaguely remembered her ranting about it, maybe a month back, when a new episode came out and he tried desperately to fall asleep while she talked his ear off about how the characterization was off. _"Everyone's friendly, sure, but they start acting funny and suddenly it's like everyone's against them!" _The comparison was uncomfortably similar to what was happening now. Marcus walked up to her side as she looked around for more ponies, brow furrowed in slight frustration.

"Come on, let's go find somewhere to crash." He gave her a friendly bump in the shoulder. "Even better, let's go home. We aren't going to make friends here. They think we're freaks."

He knew right away that out of all the things to say that was the _wrong one._ Tears welled up in her eyes, and stifling a sob Taylor started to run for the trees, out of town.

Marcus chanced a quick glance at the ponies around him before taking off after her. Man, if uncomfortable silence was a facial expression, they all had it.

* * *

After a few minutes of running, all he had to do was follow was the quiet crying. Taylor hadn't even bothered to find a clearing; she'd flopped down on a series of tree roots and broken down right there.

"Taylor?"

She looked up at him, green face now red and blotchy, still snuffling.

"I'm sorry." He lay down next to her. How does one hug without arms? Marcus settled for putting a foreleg around her neck. "I shouldn't have said that. I didn't mean too, well." He let himself trail off.

"I-I know." She sniffed loudly and wiped her face against one leg. "I just, I dunno." She sniffed again and stuffily squeaked, "I was just so excited about being here and meeting actually _ponies_, a-and Pinkie Pie was so nice to us, and I thought… I-I thought…" She shuddered and started sobbing again.

"Hey, we aren't necessarily done yet!" He pulled back his leg to give her another shoulder bump, trying to be encouraging. "We don't have to go home if you don't want to."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Let's give it another shot. I'll even help. Whaddya say?" He gave her his best 'debonair' smile; hopefully it actually looking horse-ish transferred here, because she giggled, sniffled, and stood up.

"Okay. Hey, Marcus?"

"Yes, oh Miss Bright Idea?"

"Thanks."


	4. Chapter 4: A Sunny Morning

A Sunny Morning

Level Headed and Bright Idea trotted hesitantly back into the outskirts of the town, both shrinking as the quaint cottages started to envelope them. Two ponies, a pink one and a purple one, trotted purposefully in their direction. Level Headed nudged Bright Idea to the side so they could pass, only to watch the two ponies match and meet up with them. The two exchanged curious looks as the pastel mares now faced them, looking- the first all day- _happy_ to see them.

"Hi! I thought we'd never catch up with you. Level Headed and Bright Idea, right?" The purple one chirped. She turned slightly, and they could see a morning glory cutie mark, light blue against her coat. She quickly flashed a _yay_ expression at her companion before continuing. "Pinkie Pie mentioned you guys. We just wanted to say hi and make sure you knew how to get to your welcoming party tonight!"

"And?..." The pink mare prompted her. As she stepped forward, Bright Idea spotted a sun-shaped cutie mark. She tossed her head in their direction, quietly but bluntly sending a message to the other.

"Oh, right! And, maybe, if you don't have a place to stay?..." The purple one lowered her head slightly with a nervous smile, as if afraid they'd say no.

"You don't mind?" Bright Idea was almost completely back in spirits; the two ponies friendly demeanors did her good, and even Level Headed found himself smiling.

"We'd be happy to accept your offer." He said, and all three mares faces lit up.

"That's great! Our house is this way, we can get you set up before the party starts!" With a borderline jolly click of her heels the purple one was off, leading the group with a bouncy canter.

"I'm Sundance." The pink pony had sidled up next to them, matching their walk. "She's Morning Glory; we run a bed and bath up the way. How long do you think you'll be staying?"

"Not for too long." Bright Idea exchanged looks with Level Headed before continuing, making sure he was on the same page. "We're actually here quite by accident, but I was hoping to look at some of the sights before heading back home."

"I hope us staying won't be a bother." Level Headed chimed in. "I'd like to be able to pay our way, if we can."

Sundance rolled her eyes. "Morning Glory would have none of that talk." The pony in mention was now galloping back and forth, too happy about the new guests to care about the conversation; or was it because the sky was blue again? She was running around too much for them to make out what she was saying. "But if you're insistent about it, I wouldn't say no to a couple of willing hooves around the place. Nothing difficult, of course, maybe carrying trays at most." Both ponies nodded eagerly. "It's a deal then."

* * *

Sundance and Morning Glory's bed and breakfast was a cozy muted building. Amongst the bright pastel cottages with their shiny thatched roofs, the Victorian-style home-turned-business nestled comfortably into the shade of a big oak tree, nearly merging with the bark. The only bright place was in the very front, where the sun broke through the branches and illuminated a garden full of bright primary colors and healthy greens. Sundance motioned to the white roses and golden mums and credited Morning Glory, who in turn babbled some bubbly story about humming birds as they went inside. Two flights of stairs later…

"These are your rooms." Sundance opened the door to reveal a cozy one-bed dwelling. The bed nearly touched the open door on the right, and mirroring it on the left was a light cherry writing desk with a pony-sized chair. Delicate florals in ivory decorated the bed spreads, and horizontal stripes in spring greens and yellows ran along the walls. A window opened up to the shady backyard, which was mostly filled with acorns and, upon closer inspection, squirrels. The whole feel of the room was deceptively spacious for a room no bigger than a walk-in closet.

"Sorry about the lack of space." Sundance said from outside the room as Bight idea dumped her backpack on the desk. "Despite the usual image of a bed and bath, our main customers are actually traveling students. They typically don't need a lot of space." She reached in with a hoof to pick up what was probably some pony's very important notes on Celestia's relationship with the sun and dropped it in the bin next to the desk.

"The next room over is just like it!" Morning Glory popped from a white door in the left wall. "It's just mirrored. They're separated by the bathroom here, see? Level Headed, your door's the next one down. You both get keys.. Don't mix them up!" She deposited a heavy metal key in each pony's waiting hoof as they followed her into a marble and ceramic bathroom. Level Headed was momentarily taken back to summers at his grandmother's, right down to the little white-and-gold-leaf knobs on pretty much everything.

"The party doesn't start until seven." The group gathered in the next room over, near identical except mirrored to the first. "One of us can come wake you up if you want to relax until then."

"We'd appreciate it, thanks, although I don't think either of us will be…" Level Headed trailed off when he realized Bright Idea wasn't next to him. Leaning back and looking through the open bathroom doors, he could just see her head on the pillow, already asleep. "…we'd appreciate a wake-up call, thanks, if you don't mind."

After they'd left, he closed with bathroom doors and tried to fall asleep. As tired as he was, though, his mind was too awake, buzzing with thoughts about how quickly everything had changed that day, and filled with questions about how odd their initial reception had been. It seemed like day had passed since they'd nearly gotten run over by that van. Back where there were vans. He absent-mindedly lifted his back hoof to inspect it for tire marks. No dice.


	5. Chapter 5: Hindsight

Chapter five: Hindsight.  
Unable to sleep, Level Headed spent the next few hours learning how to control his wings to an acceptable level of competency. Opening, closing, and that was his main concern. Flying was a bridge he'd cross when he came to it; honestly, he was hoping they'd leave before that ever became a serious issue. He was ready almost as soon as Morning Glory came in to wake them. Five minutes later, after jostling Bright Idea awake, the group headed to Sugarcube Corner, a place anticimatically similar to a gingerbread house.  
Level Headed was suprised at their reception. Everyone was polite and friendly, there no awkward glances or bizarre shunning from before. Had he imagined it?... No, no, it was still there, but hidden. Lurking under the surface like a looming shadow, everyone's discomfort about some unknown factor threatened to pounce and destroy a perfectly good evening. It threatened while playing games, it threatened while they ate dinner, it threatened while Pinkie Pie introduced them to her special circle of friends, the Elements of Harmony. (actually, Bright Idea was the only one really introducing herself; Level Headed opted to be social when he was prompted and spend the rest of the time wishing he wasn't there, in spite of his friends constant nudging) Finally as the evening died down, the main body of partygoers excused themselves and it was down to Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, her sister Applebloom, her sister's friends, and a few random night owls. Not to mention their pink and bouncy hostess, who insisted on everyone asking the two questions about the usual: where did they come from, what brought them here, a lot of blah blah blah that Level Headed only added phrases like "not many" or "I never got out much" too, which Bright Idea filled the enormous gap with all her fandom know-how.  
"Any idea how long y'all are stayin' in Ponyville?" Applejack asked, settling herself into the makeshift circle of seated ponies they'd made.  
"This trip was kind of random." Bright Idea made some twirly gesture with her hoof. "I figure we'll come and leave whenever it feels right."  
"I'm not too interested in staying long to be honest." Level headed chimed in. "The company's nice, but there's not much to see."  
"You should hit Manehattan if you're doing a walking tour." said Twilight Sparkle. "Lots of sights and socialites, I bet you'd fit right in!"  
_One of us, anyway_. Level Headed had to bite his tounge to keep from blurting it out. This group of ponies was enough for him, but if she was able he knew Bright Idea would meet as many ponies as she possibly could.  
Applebloom and her friends, three energetic children if there ever were, grabbed the gap in conversation to assault them with questions.  
"Where'd you get your names?"  
"What kind of town are you from?"  
"Did you ever have the Sun Ceremony there?"  
"Where's your cutie mark?"  
In the silence that followed, that hidden source of discomfort breached and, with rending jaws, dismantled the wavering calm. Blood drained out of Applejacks face at the sheer social faux pas as she tried to silence her sister.  
As the night owls quietly excused themselves for the evening Level Headed just looked around awkwardly as all the ponies tried to avoid eye contact. Finally it hit him, and he craned his head to look at his own flank.  
He had no weird pastel butt-tattoo. All the adult ponies had one but him. "How did I not notice that?!" he groaned, flailing from the neck up and finally pressing his forehead to the floor in frustration and...well...embarassment. From his understanding of the world they were now in (limited, but there) one got a "cutie mark" when they were young and decided what they're special talent was. To not have one? It was obvious why everyone had looked at him oddly; he looked...  
Immature.  
Indecisive.  
_Inhibited._  
But Bright Idea was uncharacteristically calm. "There's a very good reason Level Headed doesn't have his cutie mark yet." She said, scooping up a cupcake, a toothpick and the bowl of gumdrops off a nearby table. Everyone watched as she stuck the gumdrop, cupcake, and toothpick together into a form that might possibly be a pony, if you squinted and wished hard enough. Diagram completed, she continued. "Level Headed comes from a long line of people who had a lot of trouble finding their special talent. They wouldn't figure it out until they were my age, or older! But that's because their special talents were very rare." She scooped a cookie off the table, and in a few small quick bites turned it into a star shape, placing it next to the "pony". "Their talents were something that you wouldn't know much about, like working with complicated machines, or maybe making something that's not much in demand anymore. It could have been by distance," she moved the cookie and cupcake away from each other, "or the knowledge just wasn't there quite yet." she hid the cookie from view with one hoof. "But once they figured out their special talent" she put the cupcake on the cookie "they realized their true potential, and quickly became masters in their field!"  
Level Headed, quietly listening to the story, was surprised by how true it was, in context. He came from a long line of "late bloomers"; his father, and his father before him, and their fathers before them all didn't realize their true potential until late in life. His own father hadn't realized his dream of being a writer until after he was born, but was now a critically acclaimed author.  
"Level Headed might even get his cutie mark while in Ponyville." Pinkie Pie had eaten the display, and now everyone was standing up to leave. "All he and his past relations ever needed was to leave their comfort zone."  
Everyone left in high spirits, the discomfort completely dissolved. As the young fillies chatted excitedly among themselves at the new revelation, Level headed hoped against hope that this would keep Bright Idea from feeling abandoned like before.


End file.
